


the stories we keep

by anisstaranise



Series: Things that you say, I can't erase [6]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 12:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10697043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anisstaranise/pseuds/anisstaranise
Summary: “Tell me a story, Matthew,” she rasps, her breath catching in her breastbone each time she tries to breathe.“Elektra,” he whispers, and she knows there’s an argument ready at the tip of his tongue.“Tell me a story,” she insists.





	the stories we keep

**Author's Note:**

> For **Anne** who prompted **mattelektra** \+ _"things you said when I was crying"_ from [this](http://anisstaranise.tumblr.com/post/155022880210/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a) list.

The pain is both excruciating and numbing. Her chest feels hollow where the _sai_ pierced through her. Matt’s strong arms are wrapped firm around her. Panic teeters at the edge of her mind. She doesn’t want to die, not now when she’s finally found Matt again, not now when they have the world to take on- together.

Terror encapsulates her as the tips of her fingers start to feel cold, like the first dip of her toes in the ocean at the start of winter. But she holds on to the sound of Matt’s laboured breathing, the feel of his beating heart racing against her body.

Just Matthew, she thinks. Only Matthew.

She supposes it’s true what they say; that at the brink of death, your life flashes before your eyes. Precious memories, stories of her life jumble in a mosaic of disarrayed moments; each one of them centering on the one who means the most to her.

Matt.

“Tell me a story, Matthew,” she rasps, her breath catching in her breastbone each time she tries to breathe.

“Elektra,” he whispers, and she knows there’s an argument ready at the tip of his tongue.

“Tell me a story,” she insists.

\---

_Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet.  
Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me._

He tells her a story of the moment he steps into the banquet hall, din of empty conversations and tinkling of champagne glasses a steady accompanying piece to the symphony of the string quartet in the corner of the room.

He tells of how he’s drawn to her, inexplicably so. Of how her insults that follow her comment on his wing-tipped shoes hadn’t scared him off but rather intrigued him, pulled him closer to the edge until he’s eager to fall into her. All of her.

“You’re the one, Elektra,” he had whispered once, sated limbs draped haphazardly over each other, lying in bed and breathing the same air.

She remembers the moment as if it happened a minute ago.

\---

_We were just kids when we fell in love,_  
_Not knowing what it was_.  


He tells her a story of when he had been his happiest; the moment he had known he was in love with her.

“I feel like I’ve told you more in the last ten minutes than I’ve told anyone else in... ten years,” he had said; his shoulders seem light after expelling the things he had been carrying after his father’s death. Having her in his life had proved cathartic, he confessed.

“Then you tried to take my head off with that kick,” he whispers and she can’t help but let a small laugh slip past her trembling lips.

“I loved you then,” he admits. “I don’t think I ever stopped.”

Ten years on, neither had she.

\---

_I will not give you up this time._

He reminds her of his vow.

“If we make it, wherever you run, I run with you.”

She wants it, more than she’s ever wanted anything. She wants to run- with him. Anywhere with him.

“Please, Elektra,” he begs. “You have to make it.”

She wants it, maybe too much.

She feels her heart slow. The dark sky seems closer now, surrounding her, consuming her.

\---

_I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms,  
Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song._

His voice is far away, like an echo wandering further and further, but she holds on to it with a death grip.

She faintly hears him tell her the story of when they had crashed a charity dinner at the French Consulate, dressed to the nines.

In her mind’s eye, she’s there again, reliving the wondrous night of drinking and dancing, Matt never once leaving her side.

She’s wearing a red satin evening gown, a slit running up her right thigh showing off her slender legs. Matt’s standing before her, an almost shy smile on his lips and handsome as ever in a sharp suit, the ensemble finished with his proudly polished wing-tipped shoes.

He extends a hand. She readily takes it and they’re running down the garden path, red-bottom stilettos hooked at the tips of her fingers.

The melodious notes of _La Vie En Rose_ waft through the air from the opened patio doors of the consulate building. It’s faint but she hears it clear as a bell and hums along.

Matt snakes an arm around her petite waist, pulling her closer until his breath is on her lips.

“ _Quand il me prend dans ses bras, Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose_ ,” she sings, soft and quiet, something just for him.

They sway together, their bodies in sync as her bare feet lightly tread on the manicured grass. He pulls her closer still and she can feel the low rumble of his laughter against her body; she feels so alive in his arms.

“Elektra-” Matt whispers soft and seductive. “- wherever you run, I run with you.”

Thunder claps somewhere in the distance and she turns urgently towards the sound. Matt’s words reverberate loud and true in her mind, bleeding somewhere between a dream and a memory; a story.

She looks up expectantly at the night sky, waiting for the flash of lightning- but it never comes. There is only darkness.

_The Black Sky_.

“Matthew-” she says, alarmed by the way her heart suddenly races. “- we should go.”

But when she turns and reaches for him, she finds nothing. The space before her is empty, void of the man she loves.

The air is still. There is only darkness. And silence- save for her heartbeat.

Her hands fly to her chest, clutching at an invisible ache. She closes her eyes and hones in on the sound of her beating heart. She holds on to the thought of Matt; the way he’d run his hand gently over her face to tell if she’s smiling, the way he’d trace her skin after making love like he’s reading the story of her life, the way he loved her and how she loved him in return.

“This is not the end,” she whispers to the ether.

A single tear rolls down her cheek as she opens her eyes, turning her face up to the black sky. The darkness closes in on her. The stillness grows as her heartbeat falters, growing fainter and fainter- until...

There is only darkness. And silence.

\---END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Comments welcomed.
> 
> Lyrics used: [Perfect](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UQzJfsT2eo) by **Ed Sheeran**


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